


Breaking Point

by heartstrickledown



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:17:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartstrickledown/pseuds/heartstrickledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Roche. Dan/Rorschach. Rorschach reeeally wants Dan to fist him. Finally, he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Point

  
  
  
  


  
  
  
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**Warnings:** Anal play (rimming, fisting), purple prose.

It always comes to this, Rorschach sweat-soaked and overheated, his pulse thrumming in his dick. He doesn't understand how Daniel makes this acceptable behavior with only a few reassurances, things like _I trust you_ and _I want this_ and _I want you,_ things that should glance off Rorschach's armor with their shallow claws. Daniel makes them stick to Rorschach's skin. Every kiss and touch drives Daniel a little further into Rorschach's defenses. Sometimes it feels like he's lit up every nerve and artery with his presence.

Rorschach knows that the stakes are not as high for Daniel. His liberal idealism keeps him from understanding the scope of what he does to Rorschach. Probably he will never understand, spared the insight of nightmares and long mornings where Walter (weak Walter) hides like a fetus under his covers, trembling, making bargains with God to compensate for the gravity of his sins and for how badly he wants to sin again.

Daniel, as far as Rorschach can tell, sleeps well.

He's grinding his hips down against Rorschach's, rolling his hips to the side every few strokes as if he can't decide which position feels better. Rorschach bites his tongue and remains still. There must be a way to convince Daniel to do this (or, barring that, a way to convince himself he doesn't want it). Concern worms its way onto Dan's face at Rorschach's unresponsiveness; Daniel's worrying is an annoyance at best. Rorschach reaches a gloved hand between them to push down their costumes. (Daniel rubs against the back of Rorschach's hand and kisses at Rorschach's jaw.)

It's more difficult than it should be to free Daniel's penis from his costume, because Daniel won't stop that urgent rutting.

Rorschach rolls his head back against the wall and huffs out his frustration. He takes Daniel in his hand.

Next time.

*

Nite Owl is on his knees in Archimedes, and his thick fingers pry apart Rorschach's buttocks; he laps at his asshole, and it's so much more intense than Walter's fingers have ever been.

As Daniel fucks him with his tongue, Rorschach works up the courage to ask, his thighs shaking with pleasure. Rorschach tries to lick his lips, but the inside of his mouth is dry.

If Daniel doesn't stop, he'll - he'll - "Daniel, I want," he starts, but Daniel moans, low and loud, and that is enough for Rorschach to come.

Daniel bites his hip and smirks up at him, sweaty and proud.

Rorschach hates himself for being disappointed.

*

Daniel's fingers taste like salt and leather and oil when Rorschach sucks them into his mouth. _This,_ he thinks as he tries to show Daniel what he wants. _This._ He pulls Daniel's fore- and middle-finger deeper into his mouth (Daniel curls them, strokes Rorschach's tongue), and when they are far enough in, Rorschach licks his palm. He knows he looks like a whore. He doesn't care.

When Dan takes his hand back, he's all nerves and bitten lips. "Can't believe," he starts. He interrupts himself by kneeling in front of Rorschach and opening his mouth over Rorschach's penis.

_No,_ Rorschach thinks. _Not that._ His eyes are on Daniel's clenched mechanic-hands when he orgasms.

*

Walter kneels on his bed and rocks down on two of his fingers, opening them.

_Daniel filling him one by one, murmuring into his neck because he doesn't want to hurt him, not like this. Three fingers is too much already but Rorschach pushes for more, demands Daniel open him, stretch him to fit._

His emission's cooled on his stomach before he retracts his fingers.

They're smeared with rust-colored blood.

*

Daniel's palms are dry and cool when he smoothes them over Rorschach's bare chest.

_Violate me._ Rorschach (Walter?) arches up off the bed and spreads his legs. He just wants him inside, those hands pushing him to the edge and back.

Dan grips the back of his mask and fucks him, but that's not what he _wants._

*

Daniel scrapes Rorschach's ear with his teeth and pants, his big, warm hands sliding up under Rorschach's layers. Rorschach doesn't know how to ask Daniel to put Nite Owl's gloves back on, or how to ask him to fit as much of his hand inside of Rorschach as possible, each inch encompassing polar opposites: Tenderness and the utmost degradation, opening Rorschach, making him vulnerable. Subservient, but with full autonomy to order Daniel further in, to curl his fingers inside of him and _stretch._

Rorschach groans.

Daniel smiles against his cheek and slowly rubs his hips between Rorschach's spread legs.

He's accepted so many other proclivities. The fact that he's willing to touch Rorschach at all should be sufficient proof of his willingness for experimentation. He's in no place to refuse Rorschach this small favor, not when Rorschach's handed over his body in full confidence for months now, _months._

Rorschach tightens his grip on Daniel's shoulders and glances back at the worktable. "Want," he croaks. Clearing his throat, he tries again (Dan peels away from him, famine eyes), "Want you in."

The low sound in Dan's throat sends shivers up Rorschach's spine. "In?" Dan echoes, and his hands slide like water out from Rorschach's clothes; the heated imprint of them remains.

"Yes," Rorschach says. Dan bites his lip, then leans in and transfers the aggressive lust to Rorschach's mouth. He's rubbing against Rorschach with more force, the weight of his body leaning Rorschach against the table. "Jesus," he pants between kisses, "how do you make that so hot?"

When Daniel pulls his pants down to his thighs, it's difficult for Rorschach to snarl out "No," but he does, shoving Dan away. Dan staggers and keeps his pants from dropping past his knees with both hands. Heat flushes through Rorschach. He doesn't' know what to say. Daniel looks so hurt. "Not…I don't…"

"Hey, it's okay. It's fine. Is it the place?" Rorschach covers his face with an arm and represses a shudder. "The position?"

"Your…" Rorschach is more coherent than this. He wonders if that means he's currently Walter. "I want your hand. In me." In the time it take for Daniel to regain his composure, Rorschach manages to grit out, "Your fist."

Daniel's face colors and he jerks like he's just been hit. Rorschach tugs at his cravat, braces himself for Daniel's closed-eye shame to burst out of him, and he prepares to leave. To argue. Daniel ruins this by saying, "Let me put on my gloves."

*

Rorschach leans over the worktable, legs spread, as Daniel fucks him with three fingers. Every few thrusts he settles them as deeply as he can into Rorschach and eases them apart. Rorschach's moans are loud and slow each time he does.

"You're doing so good," Dan says, his erection pressed against the side of Rorschach's hip. "Yes, that's good. Just like that," he breathes in Rorschach's ear when he pushes back, relaxing full-length under Daniel. He trusts him so completely that it aches. He doesn't know how to feel about that. "Take it, c'mon. Take it. You're strong enough." He kisses Rorschach's neck, and Rorschach has to swallow hard (eyes burning). The lube lathered over Daniel's hand makes it easy to rock back and show Daniel with insistent movements that he's ready for the next finger.

Rorschach doesn't want to come before his whole hand is in, but that is not looking like a possibility if Daniel continues to take his time. Whining, he rests his forehead on the cold table.

Daniel edges his hand back, and when he slides it back in it's with all four fingers. "Shhh. There, there. You're okay." The sharp sound of their breath cuts into the 3 A.M. stillness of Dan's fingers, stretching, and Rorschach's never felt worse or more aroused (or closer to anyone, ever, even when Daniel's prick was nestled inside of him, front-to-back). Rorschach's certain that Daniel is burying into him, that he'll come away from this torn apart from his throat down. Nothing will be left.

He wants to curl away from Daniel.

"…what you want, never have to ask, oh, Jesus." Dan slips his free hand under Rorschach and squeezes. Rorschach grunts and picks up a shallow rutting motion, caught between Daniel's heavy hands and wanting so badly for Daniel to rip him apart. Dan kisses Rorschach's open mouth and licks down his jaw and it makes him want to sob, the possessiveness, the meticulous way Daniel stretches Rorschach and adds his thumb finally, and he can't, he can't, not - "There, there. I've got you," Daniel whispers.

The convulsive pressure in Rorschach's abdomen releases a burst of heat and pleasure and he forgets himself for a blessed moment, offers himself to Daniel with clipped, breathy noises and shuddering muscles. When he feels his orgasm passing, he struggles to lengthen it; he fucks himself on Daniel's hand, clenches his walls hard, prays for a few more seconds in suspension.

It doesn't help.

As Dan slips his hand out, Rorschach forces himself to settle. He tells himself it was no different for Daniel to do - this - to him than for Daniel to take him in his mouth. (He jerks his mask down before Daniel can kiss him again; his breath won't stop hitching and he wants Daniel far, far away and he wants Daniel inside him all over again.)

Rorschach's dimly aware of Daniel's gloves dropping onto the basement floor. He suspects Daniel is masturbating, and wishes he wouldn't, because Rorschach wants to at least watch him peak - he enjoys watching Daniel's face contort in pleasure-pain even if he hates the noises. There's only a brief moment when Daniel's away, though, and when he wraps his arms around Rorschach's abdomen and hoists him up, he's still erect.

They trip towards he cot, Rorschach still reeling; when they collapse onto it, Daniel almost tumbling off, Dan laughs. "Well!" He nuzzles his face against Rorschach's neck. (Rorschach realizes he's not cr - that he's feeling level and light.) "That was." He laughs. 'That was something." Rorschach tries to look at him, but they're nestled too close together. He finds he doesn't mind.


End file.
